What a great weekend! It’s so hard though because I tend to forget that I have a job, like literally. I never think of work which is good and bad. The good is pretty apparent but the bad? It’s that much harder when you’re thinking, “Oh, what am I doing tomorrow? Oooohhhh……” and you realize you have to go to work. It makes it even worse when your commute is 80 minutes total like *ahem* yours truly here. Yeah, that really sucks. But what can I do? I like my job and my company. I also like the area that I live in so yeah. I could pick one or the other but why do that when I don’t have to?
I went to a friend’s baby shower this weekend. It would have been more fun if a) I knew anyone there (besides the momma-to-be herself) and b) I was in the mood to be around people. So let me get into this…
I suffer from depression. I guess that is how you word it because you wouldn’t really say “I have depression”. Would you? I don’t know. Anyway, I do suffer. I’ve gotten better through counseling and medication but sometimes it really creeps up on me and *WHAM* it hits me and it’s not pretty.
So this weekend, after the shower we were driving home (it’s an hour drive) and Crinks is just screaming. I already cannot stand babies, kids, children, whoever screaming. I hate it. I act like a child and have to cover my ears to try to retain my sanity. Anyway, I find out that The Bage last fed him 2.5 hours ago. We’ll I practically lost it. I mean, he was watching him so I guess I relied on him to think about this in advanced and have a bottle for the road. So in my anger I climb to the back seat to get the remaining 2oz that we (THANKFULLY) had in the diaper bag. In the process I ripped my skirt. So I did what any normal person would do… I continued to try and tear the thing to shreds crying the whole time. And as I’m doing it I’m thinking, you will regret this later!! Then I calmed down enough to where all that occupied my mind was to jump out of our car that was going 75 mph. I told The Bage to pull over because I was afraid I was going to do it. I’ve never hurt myself that bad before but I hit my head so hard on the wall the other day that 3 days later I still have a bump that stings.
Anyway, I have the most amazing husband in the world. He pulls over and just calmly strokes my hair and lets me get it out. I seriously don’t know how he can put up with this. I mean, I’m an adult, with a child, I should be able to take care of him, not my husband having to baby me.
The thing is, not only do I scare my husband, I’m afraid of how Crinks will react when he is older. My pugs know that when I use the F-bomb to stay away. Like I said, I’m getting better but I don’t think it’s something that will ever truly go away. It’s pretty frustrating.
I can write more about this later but it is depressing. Sorry
Pace,
Megan
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